


Tipping the Scales in your Favor

by FearTheRedHoodie



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: (yeah I meant to tag them differently), Alternate Universe - Dragons, Angst, BAMF Alfred Pennyworth, Brotherly Bonding, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dick Grayson is a Good Older Sibling, Gen, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, I mean dragon, Jason Todd's spectacular vocabulary, Overprotective Damian Wayne, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd, They're dragons Harold, Tim Drake is a Dragon, Tim Drake is a Scaly, Tim Drake is a disaster, Tim Drake-centric, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearTheRedHoodie/pseuds/FearTheRedHoodie
Summary: If there is one lesson that Tim Drake’s mother had drilled into his mind from a young age, it’s how to hide.He wasn’t stupid. He knew the risks of remaining in Gotham with his… condition. He knew it was unrealistic of him to believe that he could hide his true nature forever while working in such close proximity to Bruce. He knew all this. He remained steadfast in his decision regardless. Batman needed a Robin above all else. Even above Bruce’s ‘No Metas in Gotham’ rule. He wasn’t exactly a Meta per say… more of a Mystic, but he doubts Bruce will care about the subtleties of the Metas vs. Mystic debates.Or- Tim Drake is a dragon, and apparently only I can write things that fit within my extremely niche favorite tropes.(The chapters can all be read as Stand-Alones)
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne (referenced), Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 14
Kudos: 220





	Tipping the Scales in your Favor

**Author's Note:**

> He’s halfway out the window when he hears the startled gasp of his older brother. He looks up, right into the wide eyes of one very surprised Dick Grayson. “Tim, what? What’s goin- No. Don’t you dare jump out of that wind-” The words were cut off as he jumped.

If there is one lesson that Tim Drake’s mother had drilled into his mind from a young age, it’s how to hide. 

He wasn’t stupid. He knew the risks of remaining in Gotham with his… condition. He knew it was unrealistic of him to believe that he could hide his true nature forever while working in such close proximity to Bruce. He knew all this. He remained steadfast in his decision regardless. Batman needed a Robin above all else. Even above Bruce’s ‘No Metas in Gotham’ rule. He wasn’t exactly a Meta per say… more of a Mystic, but he doubts Bruce will care about the subtleties of the Metas vs. Mystic debates.

He pushes through the side door of the manor, sprinting his way into and through the dark forest outside. He can hear his older brother’s shouts behind him as he weaves over the forest floor and tree roots with uncanny precision. The strength of his wings has deteriorated from lack of use over the years, hindering his ability to make an escape via flight. He keeps them tucked tightly to his body as he runs. His breath starts to run ragged as he hears the voice getting closer and closer. He makes a sharp turn to grasp at a thick tree trunk with a clawed, scaly hand, and starts pulling himself up. If you can’t fly, run. If you can’t run, hide. He hears the echo of his mothers cold voice in his head. She had always hated having to hide her half-humanoid form, but she understood that in order to stay standing strong and proud, she, and consequently her son, would have to hide. ‘Well, here’s to making you proud, Mother,’ he thinks to himself as he crawls into a hidey hole at the top of an old oak tree. He curls his tail around his body and carefully tuck his wings around his body in a makeshift shield.

His mothers draconic roots still made their appearance in his life, despite his attempts to nullify and repress his instincts. You could see them in the way he puts up an ice-cold front for the reporters at the Wayne Foundation galas, or Red Robin’s telltale signature of ruthlessness towards his greatest enemies. He had kept his new family in the dark for so many years; it’s hard for him to imagine how he could manage a slip-up of this proportion.

-

It was earlier in the day when Tim Drake started feeling restless. 

His nails unknowingly going back and forth from their human appearance to sharpened talons, reflecting on his nerves. He knows that he has to do a full transformation soon in order to quell the pain that pulses through his body. He had missed his normally scheduled ‘Drake-Break’, as he calls them, to help the Titans with a high security hacker that had escaped earlier in the week and man is he feeling the consequences of that decision right about now.

If he waited much longer, he would no longer have the choice in when or where he transforms which was not super conducive to keeping a secret identity on top of your regularly scheduled secret identity. So yeah. He’s majorly screwed if he doesn’t haul ass down to the forest clearing he uses for this exact sitch, right-the-fuck now.

His deep red-colored scales were phasing on and off of his skin as he shoved the Superboy T-shirt he had stolen from Kon in his Wonder Woman themed backpack alongside his other comfort clothing. He prepares to shoot off a text to the family group chat to take him off the patrol roster for the night, citing an emergency with the Titan. If his memory served him correctly, Bart is on communications tonight. He would totally cover for Tim, no questions asked if he was persuaded with Alfred’s oatmeal cookies.

The knock at his door comes before he has the chance hit send.

“Timmy! You in there Baby Brother? Open up, I wanna have some bonding time before patrol tonight! I’m in dire need of hot chocolate, cuddles, and bad sci-fi movies before a long night of punching criminals,” Dick Fucking Grayson yells from the hallway. He and his older brother had just begun to patch up their relationship after Tim had returned from his time abroad, tugging a Very much alive, I told you so, Dickhead, Bruce Wayne behind him. There was still a long way to go in healing their relationship, but they were working on it. 

“Uhh, give me a minute Dick! I’ll be right out!” He shouts as he stuffs the rest of his necessities into his backpack and moves to the window on the far side of his room. His panic had caused him to shift even further into his dragon form. Elongated, red-scaled, ears poking out from his hair, clawed hands, and bright, unnaturally golden eyes might be something of a give away to his older brother. And isn’t that just a whole bag of ‘Nope’ that he wasn’t going to open.

He must have been too busy panicking to, you know, keep the panic out of his voice, because, “Are you okay? You sound off, I’m coming in.” 

The door handle starts to twist, and with it, Tim’s heart. 

He’s halfway out the window when he hears the startled gasp of his older brother. He looks up, and right into the wide eyes of one very surprised Dick Grayson. “Tim, what? What’s goin- No. Don’t you dare jump out of that wind-” The words were cut off as he jumped. Aside from landing strangely on his ankle, he managed to tuck and roll in time to avoid any other injuries. He hears Dick getting ready to follow him via the window as he makes his break off the manor grounds.

-

He holds his breath as he hears footsteps approaching his hiding spot. They slow as they get closer, but don’t stop. He doesn’t allow himself a full breath until those footsteps pull back, seemingly back towards the manor. Even then, he waits a full three minutes before sighing, and making a move to jump back down to the ground. 

A hand grips at his upper arm. “Not a chance, little brother.” The words are spoken directly in his ear. It takes him a second, but he gets his grip on reality fast enough to start struggling before both of those octopus arms have a chance to get a better hold. 

“Whoa, whoa, Timmy. Hold on a second, don’t run. Just breath,” The hand on his arm pulled him gently back to face the kind blue eyes, that he was trying to avoid damnit, stop looking directly into them! He stares pointedly at the tree beside his brother's face. 

“What’s going on, Tim? I need you to look up and talk to me,” Dick pulls his face up to where they can finally look eye-to-eye. 

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” Tim begs, tears beginning to form in his eyes. His words have a slight lisp to them as he readjusts to talking through his elongated canines. “You were never supposed to find out. I don’t want to leave you all yet,” The words sound defeated to his ears. He feels defeated. ‘I don’t want to leave my family yet, Dickie. Please, please don’t tell Bruce. Not when everything is starting to look and feel okay again.  
“Leave? Tim, who said anything about leaving? You and I are going to go sneak back to the manor, text Babs to take Nightwing and Red Robin off patrol tonight, and talk.” 

Sneaking back into the manor is easy work for the two. Dick tosses his backpack into the room before they shimmy up the drain pipe and climb back through his bedroom window. It takes all of one minute to lock the doors, fetch a first aid kit for Tim’s ankle, and get situated. Dick sits himself on the window seat in order to block another graceful exit, and Tim fails to hide a disapproving pout. Dick takes a moment to look him up and down, analyzing him, before moving to speak.

“So, is this like… something you’re in to?” the words barley leave his mouth before Tim is stuttering out an indignant, “Wha- No! You dick, it is not something I’m ‘in to’. I’m,” he hesitates to say it out loud after all this time, “I’m a drake.”

Blue eyes blink back at him owlishly. 

“Yes, little brother. You are a Drake. How exactly do last names explain the scales? Or the tail?”

“No. Dick. I’m not saying my last name. It’s a species of eastern dragon shifters. I’m- I’m part. Dragon. If you wanna put it like that,” He spits out the words as fast as he can to just get it over with. Dick looks like he’s pondering. Rolling over Tim’s words in his head. His eyes steal, like he’s found his hill to die on regarding this situation.

“So you’re a Scaly. Okay, and why can we not tell B?” and just, what the fuck did you say, Richard? “Dick, I am not a fucking Scaly, and if you say that again I will personally burn your entire collection of vintage Superman merch. Do not test me,” he lets a little puff of smoke and flame fill his mouth while he speaks, “And you know B, Dick. He won’t let me stay here if he knows the truth. I don’t want to leave yet. Not now when things are finally starting to look up. Jason and I have been working on more cases together. He doesn’t refer to me as Replacement any longer, hell, even Damian has toned down the insults and has civil conversations with me. I just. I want time to enjoy it.”

Dick’s demeanor seemed to soften at his words. “Timmy, he won’t kick you out of Gotham. You’re his son.” He must have realize that Tim was no longer a flight risk, and promptly moved to pull Tim into a hug on the bed.

“And? What does that matter? He barely lets Clark into the city, and Clark sucks his dick.” Tim groans into Dicks chest.

“Ok, ew. Please don’t talk about my favorite superhero sucking our fathers dick. But fine. I can see where you would be nervous about telling him.” Dick makes a face at him before continuing, “I won’t push you, but I need you to lean on me with this. It looks like you couldn't control it, from what I’ve seen tonight. That surely isn’t usual, or it would have come out by now. What happened Tim?” He makes a move to shift Tim around in his hold to a more comfortable position.

“I can. Control it, I mean. Normally. When I wait too long to shift it gets harder to control. Painful even. There was one time where I waited so long that my skin started bleeding to reveal my scales.” Tim rushes out. His head was now resting on Dick’s shoulder as the man wrapped up his entire body in limbs, effectively trapping Tim in his embrace. He had forgotten what it was like to be close with his older brother like this. The man held him even tighter when he referenced pain. It was like the tighter he held on, the more he could shield Tim from getting hurt again.

“Well, you’re not doing that again. No more pain for Timmy. How often should you be shifting. That doesn’t mean how long can you go without having to shift; I mean, how long should you be going.” 

“... Every three weeks or so is what the normal maximum time should be..” he mumbled into Dick’s shirt.

“... Tim. How long had it been before today?” Dick asked with a deadly calm.

“Eight weeks...? Maybe? Give or take?” 

“EIGHT WEEKS TIM? No. No, no, no. You stay here. I’m going to ask Alfred for some cookies, and grab those bad sci-fi movies I mentioned earlier. You stay here, and… like that,” he gestured vaguely at Tim’s wings. “And I will be back. And tomorrow we can work out a healthy schedule for you to,” He gestured up and down at him again.

It had been so long since he and Dick had been this close. It feels nice. He almost didn’t mind that he’d blown his secret. He knew Dick would be there for him. 

When Dick returned, he once flung himself directly on top of Tim, which earned him a growl. Dick felt extremely satisfied with how the night had panned out. He learned something new and very but not super very, because looking back on it, there was no way that Tim Drake was completely human unexpected, and spent the rest of the night clinging to his little brother, just as he had originally planned. A night well spent in his books.


End file.
